Chapter 4 - Sophia Had Been Kidnapped to Find Her Real Father—But Alina Revealed the Man Was Someone I Had Buried Years AgoWe returned to the estate.
Security was everywhere.
I had never seen my house so heavily guarded.
But it didn't matter.
Sophia was gone.
I tore through files.
Medical records.
Orphanage records.
Birth records.
Everything.
Then Alina stopped me.
“Marco.”
“What?”
“She knows.”
“Who?”
“The truth.”
“What truth?”
“That you aren't the father she believes you are.”
I stared.
“I am her father.”
“Biologically.”
“Yes.”
“But Victor told her something else.”
“What?”
“He told her that someone else was her real father.”
I felt sick.
“Who?”
Alina handed me an old photograph.
The man in it was young.
Dark hair.
Gray eyes.
A scar on his chin.
I recognized him.
My father's trusted driver.
Matteo's older brother.
Massimo Rizzo.
He had been killed in a car explosion seven years ago.
Except—
the date was wrong.
The photograph had been taken after his supposed death.
I looked at Alina.
“What does he have to do with Sophia?”
She started crying.
“Nothing.”
“Then why show me?”
“Because Victor used his name.”
Massimo wasn't Sophia's father.
But Victor claimed he was.
Why?
Because Massimo had once helped Alina escape.
Victor needed a believable story.
A story that would make me doubt Sophia's origins.
It almost worked.
Then we discovered something else.
Sophia was never kidnapped.
She had gone willingly.
She believed someone had information about her father.
A six-year-old child's memory.
An old photograph.
A promise.
Someone had manipulated her.
We tracked her.
She had entered an old warehouse.
We arrived.
Empty.
A recording played.
Sophia's voice.
“Daddy, if you're watching this, I'm trying to find you.”
My heart broke.
The recording continued.
“Mommy says you're good.”
“She says you made mistakes.”
“But I want to know you.”
I closed my eyes.
Alina cried.
Then Sophia said:
“If you're my father, please come get me.”
The recording ended.
I turned to Alina.
“Who is she talking to?”
She whispered:
“Your father.”
I froze.
“My father is dead.”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean?”
She looked at the photograph again.
“His death was staged.”
I stared.
“You're telling me my father is alive?”
“Yes.”
For twenty-five years, I had believed my father died in a car explosion.
Apparently, he disappeared.
He abandoned the family.
He built another identity.
And he was connected to Victor.
I felt dizzy.
Then a phone rang.
My father's old number.
A number that hadn't existed in decades.
I answered.
A voice said:
“Marco.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Dad?”
Silence.
Then:
“You've found Sophia.”
“Yes.”
“She's safe.”
“Where?”
“You don't trust me.”
“No.”
“Good.”
The line ended.
I stared.
Alina asked:
“What did he say?”
“He knows where she is.”
We found him at an abandoned farmhouse.
He looked old.
Much older.
But unmistakable.
My father.
Alessandro Vitelli.
Alive.
I pointed a weapon at him.
“You let me mourn you.”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor was going to kill you.”
“So you disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me grow up from a distance.”
“I did.”
“You watched me search for Sophia.”
“Yes.”
I wanted to hit him.
Instead, I asked:
“Where is my daughter?”
He answered:
“Safe.”
“With whom?”
“Her mother.”
Alina stepped forward.
“She isn't there.”
My father looked at her.
“She was.”
“Was?”
He nodded.
“She left.”
“Where?”
“She went to find Victor.”
My heart stopped.
“She knows where he is?”
“She thinks she does.”
“Then where is he?”
My father looked at me.
“In the one place you never thought to search.”
“Where?”
“Your grandfather's estate.”
My grandfather had owned property outside Milwaukee.
Abandoned decades ago.
We went.
The estate was empty.
But inside, we found rooms filled with files.
Family photographs.
Financial records.
And one wall covered with pictures of Sophia.
Since birth.
The photographs had been taken secretly.
Someone had followed her.
Tracked her.
Recorded her.
My stomach turned.
“Who?”
My father whispered:
“Victor.”
We found a video.
Victor speaking.
He explained everything.
He wanted the trust.
He wanted Sophia's legal identity.
He wanted to make me appear unfit.
He wanted to destroy the Vitelli family.
But there was one thing he underestimated.
Sophia.
She had seen him.
She remembered.
And she had recorded his voice.
The video ended.
A door slammed.
We turned.
Victor stood there.
He smiled.
“Family reunion.”
I raised my weapon.
“You're finished.”
He laughed.
“You've always believed power means control.”
He looked at Sophia.
She was standing beside him.
Alive.
Terrified.
I stepped forward.
“Let her go.”
Victor put a hand on her shoulder.
“She came looking for answers.”
Sophia looked at me.
“Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“Is he bad?”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
She turned to Victor.
Then ran.
Victor disappeared through the back door.
My security team chased him.
I caught Sophia.
She buried her face against me.
“I thought you'd never come.”
I held her.
“I never stopped.”
She cried.
I cried.
For six years, I had imagined this moment.
It was better than every dream.
Then she whispered:
“Mommy said you would find me.”
I looked at Alina.
She was crying.
Our family was reunited.
But Victor was still free.
And he had one final weapon.
The trust.
If he could prove Sophia was unstable or legally unidentified, he could seize control.
The courtroom battle would begin tomorrow.
May you like
And this time—
we would fight in public.
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